


I'll Stop the World

by evila_elf



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 22:20:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evila_elf/pseuds/evila_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House has made a very important discovery. How does he share it with Wilson?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Stop the World

Originally posted October 11th, 2008 to Livejournal.

“I’ve done it!” House proudly announced, barging into Wilson’s office.

“What have you done?”

“It.” House proudly set a device on Wilson’s desk. It looked like a TV remote except for the fact that there were only about half a dozen large buttons on it.

“You’ve done it,” Wilson repeated, confused. “You’ve done _it_?” Wilson glanced between the remote and House, eyebrows quirked up in amusement.

“Not like that!” House shuddered. Wilson, hell yeah. Inanimate objects, fuck no. “I’ve discovered a way to make time stand still!”

Wilson, eyebrow raised in mock boredom, said, “Is that all? I can move mountains with my mind.” Then he turned back to his paperwork. “I’m busy.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Would _you_ believe you?”

“That’s beside the point. Fine, I’ll show you.”

Wilson watched House push one of the many buttons, then step back, a triumphant smile on his face. “See?”

“Cute. Door is behind you. Goodbye.”

“But...I froze time, including you, for a full minute!”

“Mmhmm,” Wilson distractedly replied, frowning at a piece of paper that needed his attention. The piece of paper was wrenched from his hand a moment later. “Hey!” 

But House already had a hold on his wrist and was yanking him out of the chair, the control letting out a shrill beep as House pressed it again. “House, I don’t have time for this! Playtime isn’t until three.” 

Before Wilson could finish protesting, House had already shoved him out into the hallway. The empty hallway.

“Odd,” House said, looking around. “Did I push the kill-all button by mistake?”

Wilson sighed and tried to turn to escape back into the semi-safety of his room, but the iron grip still on his arm jerked him to a stop like a dog on a chain. He was hauled next door where House’s team were all sitting around in various chairs. Only…there was something _off_ about them. 

“Are…they alive?” Wilson was wondering if he should fear for his own safety.

“Not dead, you idiot. Haven’t you been listening? They’re frozen. Time is frozen. Frozen, frozen, frozen. Fr--”

“Okay! I get it!” Wilson jerked his arm from House’s grasp and went to the nearest of the trio. Kutner. His skin was warm to the touch. Definitely not dead. And his pulse…was non-existent. Wilson turned to House, fuzzy eyebrows disappearing into his hairline.

“Frozen,” House sang, happily waving the remote. “Now, as much fun as it would be to write crude words all over his forehead, we have other things to do.”

Wilson’s arm was once again seized and he had no choice but to follow House. 

“House,” Wilson protested, wanting to drag his feet, but not wanting to fall on his ass. “Where are we going?”

“To visit The Lady with the Welcoming Cleavage.”

“What’s the point if she’s…”

“Frozen!”

“…and can’t visit back?”

“That, my dear Wilson, is the whole point!”

“House, stop talking so loud.”

“I don’t hear anyone complaining.”

“I am.”

“But I can ignore you and you’ll still love me in the morning.”

Wilson heaved a sigh and was silent until they reached Cuddy’s office.

House finally released Wilson’s wrist and gave a smile of triumph, ignoring the fact that Wilson had to rub the abused joint to restore blood flow. He swung open the door and waltzed in like he owned the place. Wilson peeked in from the doorway. 

“Paperwork,” House tsked. “Of all the naughty things we could have caught her in the act of doing.”

“And we didn’t. So can we go now?”

House set the remote down on the desk. “Get in and close the door.”

Wilson gave House a _look_ , lips thin and eyes narrowed, suspicious, warning, and threatening murder.

“Do it.”

Wilson caved. After all, there was no one to hear him scream if House got violent.

House seemed to have a different kind of scream in mind. As Wilson turned and closed the door, House grabbed him and spun him around, giving Wilson a fierce kiss and letting go before he knew what had hit him--or kissed him as the case might be. Wilson cast a nervous glance at Cuddy, but she still had a bored and bland expression on her face. He licked his lips, trying to find a taste of House. “Indulging in some secret fantasy of yours? And we agreed, not at work.”

“My fantasy has only just begun. And the no-jerk-at-work rule was only in place because there was a chance of someone catching us.”

Wilson still had his eyes on Cuddy, watching for any little twitch that would indicate that this was all some elaborate joke. But no one was that good of an actress. Especially not after seeing up close and personal that two of her employees were gay for each other. A hand rubbing roughly over his crotch snapped his attention back to House very quickly. Another kiss to go along with the feeling up and he didn’t care that they were, literally, making out in front of their boss. Only…it didn’t seem like it was going to stop at just making out.

House pulled Wilson further into the room until he was able to shove him against Cuddy’s desk. Wilson peeked at her again over House’s shoulder and found, to his secret delight, that she still had the same blank expression. Then House stepped back, but only far enough to strip them both of shirts and pants. Shoes and socks were kicked off to one side and their clothes were flicked out of the way by House’s cane. Now, they were completely naked except for a pair of boxers on House that just covered his scar. They didn’t do a good job covering his erection, though.

Again Wilson was spun around, this time away from House, and he found himself now less than two feet away from Cuddy. Or, rather, her chest. “House…”

“Think of the Alps,” was all the help he got.

House used minimal preparation, probably figuring that he could always pause things for a weekend while he waited for Wilson to be able to walk again. Without further ado, he dove right in. Well, part of him did.

“Fuck!” Wilson swore at the unpleasant pain that shot up his spine.

“Trying to. Shut up, enjoy yourself, and think of the Rocky Mountains.”

“I thought it was the Alps?” His voice cracked on the last word as House went deeper.

“Whatever gets your rocks off.”

“Definitely not…the image of…mountains,” Wilson gasped, lowering his head to rest against the cool surface of the desk as House slowly settled himself.

House rocked his hips back and forth, getting Wilson used to the motion before pulling out and slamming back in.

The desk was jabbing painfully into his stomach and Wilson tried to lever himself backwards, closer to House and away from the desk, holding himself with his arms. But another thrust sent him right back against it, causing the desk to vibrate slightly from the motion. He groaned and closed his eyes, panting to catch his breath.

House stopped, and seemed to be waiting for something.

Wilson wanted to weep. He hated it when House made him beg. “Damn it. House. Move....harder, pleas---Fuck!” House had cut him off with a jerk of his hips, again sending Wilson into the desk. Out of the corner of his eye, Wilson saw the remote teetering, dangerously close to falling off the edge of the desk. He wanted to tell House to grab the damn thing, but the man was thrusting in earnest now, sending bolts of pleasure up and down his spine that made it hard to concentrate on anything. He tried reaching out towards it, but his hands were unsteady. House was rocking both of them. He made one last grab as House thrust in, and managed to get his fingers around it. A shrill beep later and Wilson realized his error, dropping the remote to the floor as he realized what he had done. “House--” he started, trying to alert him, but another voice interrupted:

“HOUSE!”

Wilson elbowed House sharply to get him off of him, then dropped to the floor, trying to get to the remote. House was right there with him and got to it first, as frantic as Wilson had ever seen him. Which might have been funny in a different situation. 

House quickly pushed a button, then sighed in relief. “I’m afraid to look,” he said.

Wilson snorted, then winced as he got to his knees, feeling House’s handiwork zing up his spine, none too pleasantly. He took a deep breath before looking at his boss...

Cuddy was standing, papers pushed to all corners of her desk, a look of rage and a touch of surprised horror on her flushed face. Her frozen, flushed face. Wilson sighed with relief and collapsed back down on the floor next to House, who tried to make a grab at him but got his hand slapped away.

“No,” Wilson panted, wondering if his heart was ever going to stop trying to flee from his chest. “No,” he repeated, getting his knees under him, then his feet, pushing himself upright while avoiding looking at their boss’s face. He hurried to his discarded pants, struggling to get them tugged back into place. Heart still pounding, he grabbed his shoes and socks, not bothering to put them back on before he turned and hurried from the room, wanting to be as far away from House as he could get.

***

Wilson was playing solitaire on his computer--who could think of paperwork after what had just happened?--when House meekly entered his office. Wilson pushed the panic button on his game and gave House a weary look, eyes drifting down to the remote clutched in his hands.

“I was going to set things back,” House explained, voice halting.

Wilson nodded, waiting.

“And I know touching me is probably not as important to you as playing your game...”

Wilson glared, annoyed that House knew he wasn’t working.

“...but in order to make this work, we need to.”

“Fine.”

Wilson stood and held out his arm, but was surprised when House came around to the other side of the desk, gripping his hand and pulling him close.

The shrill little beep was loud in the silence.

House took a deep breath, angling his lips next to Wilson’s ear. “I think I can hear Cuddy’s high heels already,” he whispered, then made a dash for the balcony to escape back into his own office.

Wilson was still smiling five minutes later when a disheveled looking Cuddy burst through the door.


End file.
